


X's and O's

by WanderingTiredly



Series: the mercenary lifesytle [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: First Chapter is Pre-Slash, Halo references, M/M, Mission Days, Not Really Torture, felix being an ass, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 03:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18086669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingTiredly/pseuds/WanderingTiredly
Summary: Felix was incredibly talented at pissing people off. It was a gift. Unfortunately for him, most people didn't see it that way. They wanted to hurt him for more than information. Too bad Felix has no information or weaknesses. Right?





	X's and O's

**Author's Note:**

> felix and locus literally mean so much to me. siris deserves so much. this godforsaken group of morons own my heart. anyway, enjoy!

Felix knew, realistically, the debacle they were in was undoubtedly his fault. He’d mouthed off and it cost him dearly. Spilled one too many bits of information and before he knew it, they were up against the wall from a completely different group altogether.

So, maybe, when Felix and Locus were using their old military uniforms to fight, and maybe he’d lipped off about Innie bastards. And maybe, just maybe, that led him and his partner to being hunted down by a group of angry and vengeful Insurrectionists looking to make a mark against anyone who had once been related to the UNSC. Jokes on them, though, Isaac Gates and Samuel Ortez were declared dead on the UNSC’s official roster, and it was unlikely they would give a shit either way. Retired UNSC soldiers were expendable to the shitty government that still had jurisdiction over the system.

But that didn’t seem to stop the Innies from hating his guts. ‘You supported the UNSC? Put him to death!’ Well, buddy, Felix wasn’t keen on letting some Covie bastards gut him first, that was the only reason he legally joined up. For some unknown reason, the Innies usually thought they were above that.

So, when a group of at least fifteen people broke into his apartment, and took him in for questioning, it was only a matter of time before they dragged Locus into it, too.

“You think you’re brave?” one of them scoffed, throwing an elbow into Felix’s cheek. As far as torture went, it could be a lot worse. Not much seemed to be broken, thankfully, and the pounding ache had dulled into an annoying thrum in most places. As for his answer, _no_ , he thought, _not brave. But, I am pretty fucking pissed off._

One of his captors--the one with the thick moustache and surprisingly well manicured beard--took a step closer. “That’s alright, rat-face.” Felix stiffened, getting pretty sick of the nickname. “We don’t need an answer. In fact, we realized the stakes just weren’t high enough.”

Felix nodded in agreeance. “No, they’re not,” he agreed. _Sometimes,_ he thought snidely, _I’m such a helpful captive._ “If you know who I am, you know my motivations.” Money, good press, money, gifts, did he mention money?

“Let me guess: money.” If Felix were able, he’d have given the man on a condescending thumbs up. Was that a thing? He didn’t care, the image was funny enough for him. “Well, after a bit more digging, we decided that we had a better offer--”

“Not likely,” Felix quipped unhelpfully. It was good to keep a contrast. He couldn’t be helpful all the time, that would just get exhausting.

Moustache pinned him with a glare. It was barely effective--Felix dealt with Locus on a daily basis. “Tell me, Felix. What do you have to lose?”

Felix shrugged as best as he could with alien tech keeping his arms in place behind him. Probably a prototype before the Kig-Yar betrayed their asses. That’s what you get, you fucking Innie. “Listen, I’m still not sure why you have me here.”

“You have answers about the UNSC. About Earth. You’ve been to New Phoenix.” Son of a bitch, Felix sighed, he’s done his research. “What’s the security like? How did you get there? What’s its status?”

Too many questions all at once. Felix hadn’t been there in a while--and when he had gone, it was on a mission contracted through an unidentified source who had continually been reliable for information. It was a standard, albeit too shady for Siris, assassination mission of some high ranking personnel on the strictest planet in the whole star system.

“What? What do you want with New Phoenix?” Felix racked his brain. Locus mentioned something going on there--bastard always read the news.

_“Friendly reminder that I’m more important and deserve to be recognized more,” Felix sang, dramatically sprawling across the table._

_Locus didn’t glance up from his morning paper, instead he opted to take a bite of his bland oatmeal and then wash it down with pure black coffee. It was as if Locus was trying to suffer. “Get off the table,” he chided._

_Felix groaned and peaked over the thick wad of Intergalactic News Locus had picked up on a shady, poorly monitored human colony. “I’m telling you the important news,” Felix said flatly._

_“You’re right,” Locus responded, sarcasm dripping out of his voice, still not even attempting to make eye contact. “That is news. Why don’t you--” Uncharacteristically, Locus lost his train of thought._

_“Sam? You in there?”_

_Locus sucked in a breath and neatly folded the paper. “Looks like UNSC’s put out a story.” Felix sighed, sick of the UNSC bullshit. Locus seemed to be talking still, but Felix was busy thinking about how clear Locus’ face was. “...it was in New Phoenix.” He snapped his fingers. “Felix. Have you been listening?”_

_“Do you want the real answer or the answer you want to hear?” Was what ended that conversation._

Felix wished he paid more attention. Wished he wouldn’t be thinking about how through most of the war, the only facial scar Locus had acquired was a small nick above his eyebrow, and how he was a lucky bastard for it. Felix had a few more than that, one of which he had taken for Sam. A gash below his eye, a piece of shrapnel that’d been flying toward the back of Sam’s head.

“The Composer,” a different man hissed. He didn’t seem to have any hair at all, which didn’t flatter his facial size. Felix would need a magnifying glass to find his cheekbones and a microscope to find his jawline.

First thing to cross his mind was: what the hell is the composer? And his second thought was: who would name it that? “That’s lame,” he said at a lack for words. “Can’t help ya’ there.”

“Lame?” Was the third man in the room. He had a crisp buzz cut, and was about as war torn as most veterans would be. Except, this man was probably old enough that he was in the civil war against the UEG and not the fight against the covenant. “It’s worse than glassing.”

Felix scowled at that. Bull-fucking-shit was it worse than glassing. “I sincerely doubt that,” Felix snapped.

Moustache raised an eyebrow. “That’s the most serious response of the night. Something you don’t like?”

“Listen here Innie, because I’m only going to say this once. I’m not with the UNSC anymore. I’m not saying shit about my employment in New Phoenix and I don’t know about the composer. But, I do know, that the glassing attempts made by the covenant through low range bombardment--” Though, the terror up close was the only reason he and Locus survived at all. “Are inherently worse than--”

“This isn’t just death on the line, you fucking moron. This is painful, irreversible--” Buzz cut growled. Clearly something personal to himself. He wondered if someone he knew had been effected--but if he was an Innie, it was unlikely.

If he could, Felix would put his hand up in an attempt to stop the man from talking. “I don’t care. Painful, irreversible deaths are not my fucking problem, pal. Get that? Because here’s the thing--I’m still alive. And whoever suffered, well, they’re not me.”

And it was true. So Buzzcut’s lover, or sister, or mother, or who the fuck else was killed. Felix didn’t care about that. Clearly, wrong place, wrong time. Which is why you need to know the right place and the right time. Why you need to be stronger, faster, better. That was why him and Locus were the only ones left alive in that onslaught of Elites, Brutes, and Hunters--they were the only ones smart enough to devise a plan, strong enough to follow through, quick enough to escape.

The UNSC thought they were expendable. So, yeah, Felix hated the UNSC, but he also hated these Innies and hated them for everything they did. For their lack of ownership, for their blatant stupidity, and their insufferability.

“So you only care about yourself,” Moustache concluded.

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. Why worry? It was true. However, if he did die here, at the hands of Innies, it would be an embarrassment to his legacy.

Moustache nodded and shot a look to the other two men. “Go on.” Buzzcut looked far too thrilled to turn his back on Felix and trek to the dark side of the room. There was a resounding thud of the door crashing against the wall.

“Careful,” Felix remarked. He was ready to make another stupid joke, but his attention was captured by the series of bright lights illuminating the old warehouse he was confined to. After following the lights flickering on in a display of one by one, he lowered his eyes to the door and what was being pushed out of it.

A bloody mess of his partner. “Still laughing?” The fat bald fuck had the audacity to ask. “Hey, Seth, careful,” he mocked.

Reason stood that he shouldn’t change his demeanor. If he let them know just how affected he was, that could be used against him. Locus told him this time and time again, yet, when he looked at his bruised and battered body, Felix felt a rage spark in him. “Locus?” he called, ignoring the desperate tinge in his voice. “Locus, hey!”

Moustache smirked--cruel and evil bastard. Felix should’ve known he’d be the most sadistic of the three. “Locus, huh? An interesting helmet choice. Eliminates the threats that come with having a visor, but... adds a certain degree of machinery, don’t you think?”

Felix snarled. “No one fucking cares. What do you want?”

Baldy shrugged. “You didn’t seem awfully willing to give us any information, Mr. Felix.” He grabbed a familiar knife and spun in around in his fingers. He had taken Felix’s knife. That was his fucking knife and Felix’s brain just lost all coherency--I’m going to put a bullet into you, I’m going to track down every fucking person you’ve met and make them suffer if you don’t put that knife down.

Buzzcut stared, his deep set eyes intimidating and reminiscent of Locus’. “Being bothered by someone’s suffering is normal.” Baldy handed him the knife, urging him closer to Locus.

“Take his blindfold off,” Moustache commanded. Buzzcut felt himself too good for that, so he sliced the thing in half, and Felix watched as it descended down Locus’ face. The knife fractions of a millimeter away from Locus’ skin.

“What now?” Buzzcut asked, not bothering to hide his intrigue.

Moustache shrugged. “Something poetic. Hopefully dear Felix here will think differently about all of this afterward.” So this was about him then. And wasn’t it always? Him and Locus were so interlocked in each other’s lives that it was hardly a surprise to him. But it made him ache all the more. Made his chest constrict in ways it normally wouldn’t. He wanted out of this chair and he wanted to put a knife in Baldy’s fucking skull. Then he’d move onto the next two. Make those more fun.

Locus’ eyes met Felix, and displayed nothing for a short moment. No fear, just acceptance. But as soon as Buzzcut pressed blade into skin, he looked distraught--changed, broken. His spirit a little less fiery. Buzzcut wasted no time, he slashed it from the middle of the forehead, dragging the tip diagonally across the bridge of his nose and finally resting on his cheek.

Felix understood what they were doing. “No, fuck you, stop it! Stop it!”

Buzzcut did no such thing. Instead, he re-traced his original incision and made it just a teensy bit bigger. More jagged, more painful. He heard Locus grunt in pain, tears welling in his eyes. “It’s not fun, is it?”

“Stop it! You fucking bastard, I’m going to fucking--”

“That’s the point of all of this,” Moustache cut in. Felix didn’t look his way though, he couldn’t, no, instead he stayed transfixed on the sight of the bastard bringing the tip up to the other side of the forehead--intending to leave twin marks down Locus’ face.

“Stop it! I don’t know shit about New Phoenix, the security was garbage, the town is silent, I don’t fucking know about that piece of shit weapon, now stop it!”

Buzzcut was already half way through adding his new addition. “Should I?”

Baldy--and fuck, Felix hated that man and his nasally and smug voice, the fucking slug, Felix wanted to watch him bleed out--chortled. “You’ve come this far.”

Buzzcut slashed through the final bit, and Locus groaned in pain. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to avoid the blood that caught in them. Felix struggled to find his breath. Furious, all he could see was red.

His ears were thrumming, filled with blood. “You fucking assholes!” he cursed at the top of his lungs.

Before Felix could truly comprehend what was happening, within seconds, the fog was lifted by one resounding shot, then another, and another. Each of them entering one of the Innie bastards. Quietly, Locus croaked, “Siris.”

Felix felt every inch of tension drain out of his body for a small moment. Siris had saved them. Locus had planned for this. “You stupid fucking--was this your plan!?” Felix accused.

Locus coughed. “We had to distract the guys. Get you out. The plan was to... was to...”

Siris sprinted to his side. “The plan was to rescue you, Gates.”

Weakly, Locus muttered, “Codenames.” And normally, Felix would want to hit him but it was so Locus that Felix was overwhelmed with endearment towards the fucker. Locus was okay--despite it all. He was still Locus.

“You fucking moron I’d thought...” He couldn’t verbalize what he’d thought. He’d never be able to. Never find the words to express the fear, the utter terror at losing Locus. That was his worst fear--it all boiled back down to Locus at the end.

Moustache had been right about that. It was poetic. Felix gazed at the terrible marks adorning Locus’ face, and now he felt terrible for being jealous of his lack of scars. There would be no way for this to heal nicely. Felix struggled to swallow, his heart hammering against his ribcage.

In some ways, he wished that that he had been the ones to kill those three bastards. He would’ve made it slow. Would’ve drawn it out and felt good about it. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep knowing that there was more he could’ve done. Knowing Siris was the one who got to kill them. He wanted to carve out Buzzcut’s eyes. Sever Baldy’s throat.

 _I need to calm down,_ he urged himself. _You look weak if you let them see how bad this bothered you. That’s why they went after Sam in the first place._ He knew it was his fault, but he vehemently kept pushing it from his mind. He couldn’t bear to think about it too long.

“Felix, are you unharmed?” Locus asked, his voice soft. It made Felix ache, to hear Locus still cared so much despite everything.

He nodded. “Of course I am, what do I look like?” Siris sighed in the background. “Let’s get out of here, I hate this place.”

Locus sniffed in agreement.

Siris quirked his head. “What were they looking for?”

“Nothing,” Felix said, at the same time Locus exposed them both.

“They’re looking for a weapon. It’s Forerunner technology.”

Siris gaped. _“What?”_

Felix threw his hands in the air, storming over to Locus. “Can we just talk about this back at the apartment? We need to get you cleaned up or that could become infected, asshole. Unless you want to lose an eye.”

Locus grunted in agreeance. “Felix is right. We should...” He winced. His face was still pulsating an unsteady stream of blood. “I need to...”

Siris and Felix ran to his side in a second, steadying him. Locus’ head rested on Felix’s shoulder, and his breath was warm on his neck. It was the subtle reminder that Locus was alive, that drove Felix to remind Siris that they needed to leave. They could talk about this later.

“Come on. The car is this way.” Siris and Felix half walked-half carried Locus to the car. It was exhausting but it was familiar. It meant they survived another day. And yet, Felix almost hadn’t earned it. He’d need to push himself harder. Him and Locus needed to survive. Hell, he wanted Siris to survive, too.

Those Innie bastards were so stupid. They went after Felix and Locus for Forerunner technology. Trust them to get their facts wrong. He was going to make someone _suffer_ for it. He was certain of that.

* * *

 

 


End file.
